Brotherly Bonding
by TracyLeeT
Summary: Written for Halloween, this story features the young Cartwright brothers and a mystery.


**BROTHERLY BONDING**

"Na uh!"

"Yeah huh!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Oh, for pity's sake!" Adam whined from behind the _Territorial Enterprise's_ latest edition. "Will you two stop?"

"What if Lou's wrong?"

"Yeah, well, what if he's right?"

"Can't hurt ta try!"

"You'd be up all night!"

"Oh, brother!" Adam cried, flinging the newspaper against his lap. "Pa, will ya make them stop? They're rhyming and they don't even know it!"

Ben Cartwright scratched his nose, hiding the grin slowly creeping across his face. He'd been listening as his two younger sons, Hoss and Joe, debated the possibility that ghosts do exist and the recent claim by ten-year-old Lou O'Connor that one had settled into the long abandoned Phillips house, but it was his eldest son, Adam, who's reaction made Ben smile.

"Well, I _will_ stay up all night!" Joe insisted, his bravado dissolving as he glanced at his father. Joe lowered his head and raised his large, green, pleading, doe eyes. "If Pa says I can."

"Those eyes . . . so much like his mother's. They pull at my heartstrings every time!" Ben thought, a warm mist filling his eyes.

"Pa!" Adam shouted. "You are not going to let Little Joe stay out all night in that deserted house!" Adam flushed and quickly swallowed, his parental tone finally catching up to his ears. "Are you?"

Attentive yet silent as his father looked his way, Hoss twitched his nose and scrunched his face, wringing his hands as they lay in his lap. Ben's heart warmed at the sight of his eleven-year old. "Taking it all in," Ben thought, "and keeping his opinions to himself!"

With two of his sons poised in anticipation and the other trying to fade into the background, Ben folded his hands and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "You boys

know that the old Phillips place has been empty for nearly a year now," Ben began, pausing to see two heads nodding and a third, that of Adam, impatiently waiting for more information, "and recently, it's been slated to be auctioned off to the highest bidder."

"You gonna buy it, Pa?" Joe asked, his eight-year-old legs kicking in excitement against the front edge of the settee.

"He cain't buy it, Little Joe," Hoss said, breaking his silence, his Tahoe-blue eyes sparkling. "He has ta bid on it, ain't that right, Pa?"

"Yes, Hoss," Ben replied. "If I wanted the property, I would have to bid on it. But I don't want it, I was just explaining . . ."

"I'm glad ya don't want it!" Joe said, sliding forward on the cushion, his legs still dangling a good twenty-four inches from the floor. "It ain't a very nice house, Pa. When me 'n' Lou went over to . . ."

"Joseph," Ben growled. "You were told to stay away from that house. In fact, young man, you were told to stay off of the entire property!"

Hoss's eyes dimmed and his gaze fell back to his lap, his twisting hands mimicking his scrunching lips.

Joe started to speak, but was cut off sharply by his oldest brother.

"You and Lou went into that house?" Adam sat forward in the blue velvet chair, sudden concern creeping over his face.

Joe, holding his breath, nodded once, his eyes averting those of everyone in the room.

"Joe," Adam scolded, his face darting from worry to disappointment, "you should've come to me! Don't you know you could've been hurt wandering around in that . . ." Adam stopped, his own eyes caught by his father's wide-eyed stare. "Sorry, Pa."

Ben quickly turned his attention back to his youngest boy. "Joseph, did you go to the Phillips property after you'd been told specifically not to go there?"

Little Joe squirmed on the settee. "Pa, you told me pacifically not to go to the Phillips place unless there was an adult with me, 'n' Lou's . . ."

"Lou is a ten-year-old boy," Adam scolded. "And a ten-year-old boy is _not_ an adult!"

"Ya didn't lemme finish, bossy Adam!" Little Joe yelled, his high-pitched voice overflowing with aggravation. "Lou's pa was with us that night when we went over there! He's doin' the auction stuff 'n' I reckon he's an adult, 'cause he's a pa!"

Once again, Ben found himself fighting the tug of a grin while Adam, at a sudden loss for words, relaxed back into his chair. Ben cleared his throat and along with it, his smile. "So, Joseph, you and Lou, and Mr. O'Connor, went to the Phillips place?"

"Yep!" Joe replied, correcting his manners when his father's eyes narrowed. "I mean, yes, sir. We went there that night when I was sleepin' over at Lou's."

"And what happened while you were there?" Ben asked.

"Me 'n' Lou . . ."

"Lou and I," Adam said.

"Sheesh, Adam! You wasn't there with Lou! I was!" Joe snapped. "Me 'n' Lou was lookin' around while his pa was writin' auction stuff in his book, 'n' when we went into the kitchen, Lou saw a ghost! 'N' Hoss says Lou's lyin' 'n' I say me 'n' Hoss . . ."

"Hoss and . . . oh, nevermind!" Adam cried.

Joe let out an exasperated sigh before looking to his silent brother for some measure of support. "And I say me 'n' Hoss should go take a look for ourselfs!"

Hoss crumpled his face again, his eyes circling as they avoided contact with everyone in the room.

"Hoss," Ben said, his voice firm and even, "what do you have to say about all of this?"

Hoss's eyes froze, leaving him staring, temporarily, at the ceiling, his shoulders slumping forward. "I reckon I don't believe in ghosts, Pa, but I also reckon I'd like the chance ta see one iff'n they's real."

"If they _are_ . . . forget I said anything," Adam said, shaking his head.

Ben stood, shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and began to pace the length of the hearth and back again. _Adam and Hoss have been working hard these past few weeks. Even Little Joe has done more than his share to get the ranch ready for a long, severe winter. Between schoolwork and their chores, they've been working side by side for quite some time. This just might be a chance to let them have a little fun.___"Well, if we can find an adult who is willing to spend the night in an old, broken-down house with two little boys . . ."

"Hey, pa!" Hoss chimed. "I ain't no little boy!"

"With two young boys," Ben corrected, still pacing as he hid a smirk, "why, then I guess it would be alright with me. I would go along, mind you, but I have so much left to do before November settles in." Ben's pacing continued. "Now, I wonder, where could we find an adult to go on a ghost watch?"

Adam shifted in his seat.

"We'd need someone who isn't afraid of the dark . . ." Ben continued.

The excitement of an adventure with his brothers building, Adam cleared his throat, his eyes beaming up at his pacing father.

"And it would have to be someone who could spare an entire evening and night for this adventure . . ."

"Uh, pa!" Adam said, jumping to his feet, standing nearly head to head with his father. "I guess I could go with them, if you can spare me for a while, that is."

Hoss and Little Joe leaped to their feet, their excited voices overlapping as they begged their father's permission. "Please, Pa! Please!"

And so it was on that chilly, windy October 31st, that Little Joe, Hoss, and their 'adult' brother, Adam, set out for the Phillips house some nine miles from the Ponderosa. Ben and Hop Sing made sure that the ghost hunters had ample blankets, food, and water for their adventure, and as they rode away from the yard, waving and grinning with excitement, Ben clapped Hop Sing on the back, laughed, and said, "Ghosts! Can you believe it, Hop Sing? They actually think they're gonna see a ghost!"

"Mister Cartwright not laugh! No say 'ha ha ha!'" Hop Sing warned, shaking his finger. "Old Chinese saying: Ghost who appear in kitchen is spirit of person condemned to suffer!"

"Oh, really, Hop Sing!" Ben chided. "There are many superstitions about ghosts and lost souls wandering the earth. You don't really believe all that, now do you?"

Hop Sing nodded, his eyes flashing widely.

"And just how is it that these kitchen ghosts of yours are made to suffer?" Ben asked, his fisted hands thrust squarely against his hips.

"Ghost in kitchen suffer fate of eight legs. Many legs to carry ghost from place to place, search for food. Suffer in hunger! That why Hop Sing pack extra food, put on boys' horses. Hop Sing no want boys be eaten by hungry, eight leg spirit!" Mumbling more about spirits and food, Hop Sing shuffled back into the house, his English morphing into Chinese as he closed the door behind him.

Standing alone on the porch of the Ponderosa, Ben chuckled and shook his head, turned slowly back toward the trail, and furrowed his brow as he thought of his boys alone in the Phillips house.

"It's awful dark, Adam," Hoss whispered, still clinging to Chestnut's reins.

"Of course it is, Hoss!" Adam said as he swung down from Sport's back. "The house has been empty for a year. Did you expect that the oil lamps would still be lit?"

Adam reached for Joe, lowering him gently from Sport's saddle to the ground.

"It ain't as scary as havin' to ride double with your brother!" Joe complained, clearly embarrassed by sharing a horse with Adam.

"You know your pony isn't ready for a long, nighttime ride just yet, Joe," Adam explained for the fourth time since their father had first told him so earlier that day. "She's just learning, as are you, how to cooperate as mount and rider. Now let's stop jawin' about how we got here and let's get inside and see if we can find us a ghost!"

Little Joe, armed with a small, freshly-lit lantern and the burden of a sack of food, marched toward the dilapidated front door of the abandoned house. "Watch this, Hoss!" he shouted. "The door doesn't even stay closed! Anybody that wants to can just walk right in!"

Hoss hesitated on the porch as Joe kicked the creaking door into the room. "Yeah, anybody could git in there!"

Adam held his lantern closer to Hoss's paling face. "Hoss," Adam said gently, "ghosts are able to travel through walls, they don't need an open door!"

"Hey, Adam!" Joe said, looking over his shoulder. "I thought you said you don't believe in ghosts!"

Adam adjusted his lantern, lighting the porch and several feet inside the house. "I don't, little brother," Adam replied. "But it appears now that you _and_ Hoss do, so I was merely pointing out that . . ."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Joe whined, "whatever! C'mon, Hoss! What are ya waitin' for?"

Adam watched as Joe disappeared further into the house. With a supportive smile and an arm around his neck, Adam led Hoss inside.

The air in the house was thick with dampness and an earthy, musty smell that said reminded Joe of one of the caves he and his pa had explored on their last father-son outing several months before. Hoss leaned a shoulder against Adam's hip as they walked deeper into the house, and he stared at the cobwebs lying lightly along furniture, stretching upward to connect to the ceiling, doorways, and draperies. Joe scanned the room, his eyes wide with expectation. In the eerie light of the gently swaying lanterns, footprints on the dust-covered floor revealed the steps taken days ago by Little Joe, Lou, and Mr. O'Connor. As the threesome gathered in the center of the large, open room, their backsides nearly touching in a tightly formed circle, the deafening silence hung thick in the air.

"So, Joe," Adam said suddenly.

"Geez, Adam!" Joe shouted, toppling backward against Hoss, his chest heaving with every shallow breath. "Ya scared me half outta my drawers!"

"Yeah!" Hoss added, releasing Adam's leg from his grip. "Dadgummit, Adam, you done scared us on purpose!"

Adam lowered his lantern, shadowing the grin forming on his face. "I did no such thing!" he claimedas he turned to look around the room. "I was merely about to ask Little Joe where it was that Lou claims to have seen the ghost."

Joe scrunched his nose and puckered his lips – his favorite "behind-Adam's-back" face. With his hands fisted against his hips, Joe glared up at his oldest brother. "I'll tell ya," Joe said, his tone full of eight-year-old anger, "but only if ya promise not ta scare us . . . I mean Hoss again!"

"Yeah, Adam!" Hoss added. "And iff'n ya promise, then ya cain't do it, 'cause we'll tell Pa . . . Hey! I weren't the onlyest one scared!"

Feeling guilty – only slightly – for frightening his brothers, Adam promised and, with Hoss glued to his side, followed Little Joe into a hallway and toward the Phillips' kitchen. He set his lantern on the topmost shelf of an old cupboard and the room came alive with silhouettes and shaded corners. The pump at the sink was swathed in dust-webs, and the open-shelved pantry was littered with filthy jars and bottles left behind by the owners.

With the addition of Hoss and Joe's lanterns, the room lost most of its supernatural atmosphere, freeing Hoss from Adam's side and encouraging his curious nature. As he eased his way around the room, he couldn't resist recording his initials in the dust on several flat surfaces.

Adam studied the room, noting its poor lay-out and the numerous faults in its construction. His mind wandered to the sleeping arrangements and mentally, he rearranged the table and chairs and the large buffet to make ample space for three blankets in the center of the room.

Little Joe explored the kitchen, peering cautiously around furniture and behind curtains as he looked for clues to Lou's sighting of the ghost.

As the Cartwright brothers rounded the room, they came together near the pump over the large sink. Hoss leaned against the edge, facing Adam, and Joe quickly mirrored Hoss's stance.

"Alright," Adam said, his hands folded tightly across his chest, "let's get our gear and then we'll move the table and chairs and bunk down for the night."

"You reckon the ghost is already here, Adam?" Hoss asked, his big, blue eyes shining in the lamplight as he moved to stand next to the safety of his big brother.

"'Course it's here," Joe said. "It lives here, don't it? 'N' besides, where else would it go?"

Hoss's eyes grew bigger. "Right th..th..there!" he whispered, his pointing finger trembling in the air.

"Huh?" Joe mumbled, turning to follow Hoss's finger. "GEEZ!" Joe screamed, leaping against Adam.

Hoss latched onto Adam's leg as Adam swung Joe into his arms. Together, they backed away from the sink, and the biggest black spider any of them had ever seen.

"Little Joe," Hoss said, his voice suddenly higher in pitch, "that critter dang near crawled on yer shoulder!"

"It did?" Joe squeaked, his fingers digging into Adam's flesh as he clung to the safety of his big brother's neck.

The three Cartwright brothers stared at the stilled spider.

"You reckon there's more of 'em?" Hoss whispered.

"Probably," Adam replied softly, his eyes darting around the room but always coming back to the same spot on the sink.

Joe shuddered and Adam tightened his embrace.

"We gotta k . . . kill it before we can sleep in here," Joe said, his voice cracking. "You can do it, right, Adam?"

This time, Adam shivered. "Uh . . ."

"Adam don't like crawlies," Hoss reminded Joe sincerely. "'N' I like most critters, but I ain't fond o' crawlies neither."

The spider flexed one leg, propelling the boys another two feet back from the sink.

"Geez!" Joe cried. "Didja see that? Its legs look bigger 'an a cattail reed!"

"Ya reckon it's . . . hungry?" Hoss asked, swallowing hard. "Ya reckon it's lookin' fer somethin' ta eat?"

"Yeah . . ." Joe mumbled, "or someone?"

"Don't be silly, Joe," Adam said, still clinging to his little brother while losing the feeling in his Hoss-clutched leg. "Spiders don't eat people."

"But that ain't no ornarary spider, Adam!" Hoss cried. "Look at the size of it! Iff'n it was jist a bit bigger, Little Joe's could sling his new saddle up on its back 'n' take it fer a ride!"

No one disagreed with Hoss's declaration, and when the spider suddenly crept a full quarter of an inch across the dust-covered sink, Adam, toting Little Joe and dragging Hoss along with his leg, pounded the floor toward the living room and out under the safety of the star-dotted night sky.

"Didja see that, Adam?" Joe cried, climbing higher onto Adam's sturdy body. "Dadburned thing tried ta eat us!"

Hoss, now clinging to Adam's waist, quivered as the hair on his neck stood at full attention. "It was gonna eat me first, Little Joe! I jist know it was!"

Gasping from the added weight he'd been carrying, Adam fixed his eyes on the open door to the Phillips house. "Spiders don't eat people!"

"Yeah, well, maybe ghost spiders do, Mr. Know-it-all!" Little Joe cried. "Hey . . . maybe that's what happened to old Mr. Phillips!"

Adam shook his head, but kept his eyes trained on the open door. "Mr. Phillips moved to Wisconsin to live with his daughter, Joe. He was not eaten by a ghost spider!"

Behind the boys, Sport lowered his head and chomped loudly on a tall patch of sweet grass. Adam spun around at the sound, lifting Hoss's feet from the ground and forcing Joe to hang onto his neck to keep from falling. "Damn horse!" Adam cried, his heart racing.

"Adam! You ain't s'posed ta say that word!" Hoss reminded.

"Yeah, well, I know I'm not!" Adam admitted. "But right now, I'm more concerned with how we're gonna spend the night in . . . in there, 'cause if we go home now, Pa won't ever let us forget it!"

Joe laid a hand on each of Adam's cheeks and yanked his head to the left until their eyes met in the moonlight. "Adam," Joe whispered seriously, his eyebrows pleading his case, "I ain't goin' back in there!"

"I ain't neither," Hoss agreed. "I don't care if Pa calls us lily-livered er scaredy cats er even," Hoss swallowed hard, "little boys!"

Adam scratched the side of his neck just above Little Joe's tightly clasped fingers. "But," Adam said, "Pa expects us to be out all night."

Silence fell again in the yard outside of the Phillips' house. Adam shifted his weight from foot to foot, Hoss sucked his lower lip into his mouth and bit down softly, and Joe scrunched and twisted his face in deep concentration.

After several hushed moments, Little Joe released his grip on Adam's neck and snapped his fingers. "I got it!" he cried. "We ride back to the ranch 'n' spend the night in the barn! Then in the morning, we walk into the house like we was jist gettin' home!"

Hoss nodded, anxious for any reason to leave the Phillips place before the spider ghost came out to eat them. "That'd work, wouldn't it, Adam?"

Adam grinned. "It's so simple, I almost missed it!"

"Hey!" Joe cried. "It was my idea!"

"Yeah, Little Joe," Hoss agreed, "but yer ideas ain't always good'uns less'in Adam agrees with 'em!"

Outraged by Hoss's comments, Joe wriggled free of Adam's protective arms and plopped heavily onto his feet. With his fists on his hips, Joe widened his stance, curled his upper lip and growled, "Hoss Cartwright, I'm gonna pound you!"

Adam calmly placed his hand against Little Joe's curly-hair-covered forehead, holding him back from his threats.

Hoss, fists at the ready, kept one eye on his little brother and the other on the front door of the spider ghost house.

"Alright you two," Adam growled, "that'll be enough of that!"

"Yeah, Little Joe," Hoss said. "All this ruckus might bring the crawlie out here!"

Joe spun on his heels to face the house just as a forceful gust of chilled, October wind swirled through the front door, whistling between the hinges and setting the porch rocking chair in motion.

Backing slowly into Sport's left front leg, Joe's eyes grew to impossible proportions and before he could speak, he felt himself being scooped up into Sport's saddle.

"The barn?" Adam asked, looking directly into Hoss's frightened eyes.

"The barn!" Hoss replied, thrusting his foot into Chestnut's stirrup.

Adam swung smoothly into position behind Joe and without a second thought to the lanterns left behind, kicked Sport to a gallop with Hoss and Chestnut right behind.

"Mister Cartwright!" Hop Sing whispered as he hurried to the breakfast table. "Come quick!"

"What is it, Hop Sing?" Ben asked, quickly folding his newspaper and lowering his coffee cup into its saucer.

Hop Sing grinned and giggled. "You come to barn! Shh! Must be quiet!"

Ben and Hop Sing rushed out of the kitchen door and across the yard. Hop Sing leaned sideways, peering beyond the heavy, half-closed barn door. Ben did the same, his head towering above that of his cook.

Huddled together in the north corner of the barn lay Adam, his arms outstretched to the sides, a younger brother's head tucked snugly against each shoulder. Their blankets hugged their necks and their booted feet stuck out from beneath the covers. Off to one side were two opened saddlebags and one empty sack, and the wrappings from the fried chicken and biscuits lay scattered amongst the hay. As Ben and Hop Sing watched the sleeping boys, Little Joe mumbled and twisted, scooting his body tightly against Adam's side. Adam, his eyes closed in peaceful slumber, pulled Joe even closer, contented smiles forming on both boys' faces.

Ben tapped Hop Sing's shoulder, and both men headed back to the house.

"I wonder what happened?" Ben asked. "They were so determined to wait for that ghost!"

"Maybe boys see ghost," Hop Sing said. "Hungry, eight leg ghost chase boys away! Boys run, not be eaten!"

Ben laughed. "I get the feeling that those boys of mine were chased, but not by any ghost! I'm betting they were chased by their own fears, and carried home by eight very fast legs!"

Hop Sing furrowed his brow. "Hop Sing no understand," he said. "Boys have two legs each. That six, not eight."

Ben wrapped his arm around Hop Sing's shoulders as they stepped inside the kitchen. "Chestnut and Sport have eight legs, Hop Sing! Eight very fast legs!"

Hop Sing chuckled, and as Ben joined in the laughter, Hop Sing froze suddenly. He reached for a short piece of stove wood, slid from Ben's arm, and slapped the wood against the counter by the sink.

Ben stared at his cook, and when Hop Sing turned, he grinned and said simply, "Spider."

~ ~ finis ~ ~


End file.
